Decades ago, a Bollywood film titled Mahal had created near sensation in India. It was because of the element of mystery that had been woven around a beautiful girl who would disappear from one place to appear at another within fraction of seconds.
All this time, she was seen singing a very melodious song Aayega aaney wala. Rendered by Lata Mangeshkar, this song continues to be a popular number even today. The film starred the gorgeous actress, Madhubala.
Throughout the film, veteran actor Ashok Kumar kept chasing her but the singing beauty would elude him and appear at a distance, singing the song.
That was the era of black and white films, which perhaps added to the fear-generating effect of the movie. And as hardly any horror films were made in Bollywood those days, Mahal came to be known as one featuring a female ghost.
This classic film created the desired impact on millions of people, including Mrs M, a chicken-hearted aunt of mine. This fact was very much evidenced on a day when she had accompanied her husband to a late night show of the said film. But by the time they came back home at about 1.30 am, she was a nervous wreck. My aunt was gripped with the fear of the "known". She was shaken and her face looked pale.
Even as my uncle lay on the bed trying to sleep, she sat by his side on her bed muttering that she was very scared. Her plea to her husband to do something to allay her fears and soothe her nerves only evoked mild rebukes. "Don't disturb. Just go to sleep. It is 2.15am, you know?" he would chide her.
But aunty would not heed. The clock kept ticking away. Now it was close to 3am, yet the nudging continued. Looking intensely through the trees and bushes in the front courtyard, she shook her sleeping husband telling him, "There is some one out there". This time, the irritated husband scolded her in a louder tone.
No stopping
However, there was no stopping. The clock slowly moved and even at about 4am, aunty was sitting trying to get rid of the ghost of her imagination. However, the ghost was not obliging. By now, it was 4.30am or so and there were no signs of the much-wanted ghost. Finally, it was a little past 5am that aunty was obliged by a "ghost who walked". Seeing a well-built figure in the front courtyard walking towards them, she started screaming, pointing a trembling index finger in that direction. Her full-throated screams broke the silence of that hour and woke up others.
Finding that after all, his wife was not wrong the whole night, my uncle - a frail and fragile figure - jumped out of his bed. Like a leopard, he pounced upon his target and started mauling the person. He even beat the ghost black and blue.
Taken by surprise, the hefty man kept shouting, "Babuji (Sir), what has happened to you?" And all this while, standing in the verandah, my aunt was shrieking her lungs out.
Meanwhile, the stout man, having taken some kicks and punches for a little while, finally decided that he would be a fool to suffer any more at the hands of a frail person. He hit back very hard at his opponent, my uncle. One punch and uncle was floored like a bone china flower vase falling on the ground.
Upon realising that the "ghost" in question was the morning milkman, my uncle wanted to apologise but the body pain did not allow him to speak a word. He only let out painful sighs. However, amidst the goof up, the milkman did say 'sorry' for giving a heavy blow to the lean and thin 'Sir'.
My aunty was forbidden from going to any movie that featured Madhubala. She was not allowed to see Madhubala's memorable role in Mughal-e-Azam.
Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.
